


something new

by OfficialTrashKing



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: And not the good kind, Angels and Demons, Attempt at humour, Bashing of Brighton, Brighton - Freeform, Car Accidents, Experimentation, Government Experimentation, Humour, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Still writing so the rating may go up, They are very much in love don't worry, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22914070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialTrashKing/pseuds/OfficialTrashKing
Summary: After a car accident in the middle of nowhere the two are picked up by the nearby government facility who later find out who-or rather what-they are.After being subjected to the whims of the facility's most cruel and curious doctor, will they ever be the same again? Or something entirely new?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)





	something new

Aziraphale hadn't seen the sea in years. He understood the attraction but he just a big 'sea' person. You see he had bad experiences at sea. Well more that he had bad experiences in boats. The last time he had experienced the pleasure of being onboard he found himself in the water. All his poor clothes were ruined. And knowing him these garments were expensive, tailor-made and well-loved. He couldn't just make himself dry without drawing a little bit of attention. He nearly swore at the poor lug who had knocked him (and then pulled him out) but held off with a strength seen only in restless volcanoes or a vicar holding onto their sanity as he asked for guidance in a village of morons.  
Anyway. Crowley had seen to remedy this lack of sea in Aziraphale's life. He had knocked loudly on the bookshop door despite being able to miracle it open anyway. The love of Crowley's life huffed as he opened the door thinking it was a customer, before he saw who had knocked. The Bentley was parked right outside, door open, both the car and Crowley inviting him to go with them. He took Crowley's hand waiting hand and was led into the waiting car. Crowley shut his door, ran round to the driver's seat and hopped in, pulling off too fast as they began on a prompt road-trip South to Brighton. 

-

Now what Crowley hadn't thought of was that Brighton only looked good when ridiculously drunk, aged 4 or on a wonderful summers day after a siren had gone off to warn everyone indoors.  
So here they stood on Brighton's gloomy promenade. Accompanied by two kids on skateboards failing to do kickflips, a man laying on the rocks who might be dead, an old woman who sat so still in the bus stop that she looked like a permanent fixture and enough seagulls to make a seagull coat.  
The wind and rain knocked out whatever fun could be squeezed out of the place in time.  
Crowley just sighed as he threw entire slices of bread at the bloodthirsty seagulls. He knocked one full on and he almost cheered, turning to his companion in an attempt for praise (not that he would ever say that how dare you even think that fuck off). Only to realise Aziraphale had missed that triumphant throw and when rustled out of his stupour he merely smiled in acknowledgement that something had happened and carried on gazing straight ahead same bland colour of both the sea and the sky.  
The air in Crowley's sails had been told to fuck off and he went back to chucking bread, making faces in a way to vent his anger.

After enough time had past, Aziraphale sighed and turned to his Crowley with a face and stature of someone who is not only a well-practiced pleader but a bit of a drama queen.  
"My dear, I must say this place is making me feel awfully depressed"  
Crowley grunted and threw three slices this time. They both watched as it missed every bird in Brighton and was blown back towards the seawall to hit a very attached couple who had wanted to introduce food into their relationship but not in this way. The man detached and threw his fist up at them, shouting something but it was lost to the wind. They both tried very hard not to laugh as this small man attempting to shout at them with his cock out on a cold day in Brighton, but they weren't very successful  
Crowley finally replied "You wanna go somewhere else?"  
"What a splendid idea, let's go" and did that weird not walk-not-jog towards the illegally parked car 

-

They ended up further East along the coast. Now for those that aren't British natives you may not know the abundance of... weird place names. The place they were driving too had one of these names. These two 6000+yr olds had had enough time to get used to this names and rise above it. They definitely didn't pull over because they were laughing too much at the sign saying "Cuckmere Haven".  
The car rolled up to the view of wonderful white cliff's. They stepped out of the car, Aziraphale was transfixed on the view and Crowley was transfixed on him.  
"Picnic, angel" Crowley said, pulling a picnic basket out of nothing. Aziraphale met his gaze with eyes glowing with such fondness that Crowley fought not to look away. 

With the blanket laid out in the field they wined and dined on their favourite wines (not enough to get drunk) and an assortment of cheeses and small fruits.  
Aziraphale made the first move, reaching over to hold Crowley's hand. He blushed and looked down at the now very interesting blanket.  
Their love escalated until the were leaning against eachother. Crowley fed him grapes like some sort of Roman hedonist (they both loved it). Aziraphale saw the reflection of the sunset in Crowley's brilliant yellow eyes and just had to reach out to hold his face. Crowley watched the sunset in turn. And just when the sun dipped below the horizon they met in the middle.  
-

They were driving back now, they hands connected over the stick-shift, sharing love-filled looks every-so-often.  
It was during one of these love-filled looks that it happened.  
They were driving fast through the small, narrow, hedged-in roads, the moon appearing through the trees.  
Aziraphale had broken the gaze and his eyes grew as he looked out of the front windscreen,  
"CROWLEY, WATCH O-"  
They collided with the stationary car hidden in the dark at around 87 miles per hour. Crowley had never bothered to put seatbelts in the his dear Bentley but as he was knocked through the windscreen he wish he had.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how many chapters this will have but it won't be like extremely long or anything.  
> Please excuse my writing, I know it's kinda awful but the only way to get better is through practice. Honestly better at writing letters.  
> Also listen to Don't Know Why by Soundgirl. Not relevant to the fic it's just a good song that shouldn't have been slept on.


End file.
